Today has been a really sad day. I feel like I’ve lost 6 months of healing in just one week. Wednesday was the verbal attack by ex1. Friday was verbal abuse via email from ex2. Saturday my washing machine died. Sunday I realized as I sent baby girl out the door with ex2 that I would only get to see her 5 hours in the next 3 weeks (which leaves him 499 hours in which to abuse her). Today I found out that the repair bill for the washer will be almost triple what I paid for the damn machine. *sigh* *super sigh* *tears*
I feel like I’ve died and gone right back to hell. AS IF the last year wasn’t a hell-fire and damnation story of epic proportions…now I get to do it all over again THIS year. Great…can’t wait…please note sarcasm.
Why am I on this earth? Why was I born in to a horrifically abusive family who made me the scapegoat? Why didn’t anyone ever intervene? Why didn’t any of my extended family ever love me? Why did God help me to escape only to put me thru 11 months of hell to regain some of what I lost? Why do I have to struggle every single day to provide for my children what most people take for granted…a safe home, a warm meal and a family who loves them.
Why do I keep going? What is the point? Where is all this leading?
Finances are my biggest stumbling block. Abuse I can handle. I’ve been abused my entire life so I know how to deal with that. But although court-ordered to do so, ex2 refuses to pay child support, daycare or medical expenses at all. ex1 pays but when he feels like it and he underreports his income to keep his payments as low as possible. What I’m left with is never having enough money to keep food on the table and my bills paid each month. And their bills…I’m still having to pay for their bills too. I’m always “borrowing” from next month’s paycheck to pay this month’s bills and its a scary place to be. I have no savings. My vehicle needs a ton of repairs AND new tires. I never know when I will get child support. My boss has been steering new clients towards my supervisor instead of to me…I’m even being abused in the workplace. *sigh*
I want to quit. I want to lay down and die in the middle of the road. I see no point in my life. Nothing ever changes…15 months out and just the same shit/different day every single week.
It was a joke to think I deserved better.
I’m still trying to process it. The attack. So quick that I never knew what hit me. Down the front steps, across the front lawn and in my face before I could say milk shake.
Let’s back up a minute. Baby girl is on week 1 of 4 week summer visitation with her dad. It has been HARD already. Last night was my evening with her and I texted the older kid’s dad to see if they could come over. To see baby girl, have milk shakes and get my oldest ready to go to camp. Mistake #1 given how contentious, toxic and angry he has been in the past 15 months. No reply from him. So industrious me loads up baby girl, picks up shakes and goes to the kids’ house to see them. Mistake #2. I shut off my vehicle, step out with an arm full of milk shakes and fury (aka ex #1) explodes out the front door of his residence. I say his residence because his gf owns the house and he just mooches off her by living there. Although I was informed last nite that he pays half the mortgage. To which I responded, “well that’s really stupid”. Mistake #3.
He exploded. Went nuclear. Screaming at me in front of my middle son and my youngest daughter. Refused to let the other kids come outside. As I stood in the driveway with an arm full of milk shakes and what could have only been a dumbfounded look on my face. Screaming about how I don’t communicate with him (I sent a text, no reply), how I FINALLY started paying for the kids (yeah, let’s not even go there), that I was trespassing, that he was going to try to take the kids from me on weekends and on and on and on. The neighbors now are aware of every grievance he’s had with me over the past year. And I do mean every one. And while I gave better than I got it all boiled down to one thing…a disordered, pathological person dumping all their “stuff” on me. Nothing new there.
I called the cops on my way home, shaking like a leaf and had them file a report. They felt talking to him would likely only make it worse on the kids (I found out this morning that gf had been physically blocking my kids from coming outside to see me) and I guess that makes sense. Except that this keeps escalating and maybe some police intervention, even a good talking to, might knock him down a peg or two. We have joint custody…these kids are NOT hostages…and his gf becoming involved upsets me even more. Don’t even get me started on her and her dysfunctions.
I couldn’t sleep last night. I just keep replaying it over and over. I spoke to my therapist after the cops left and we reviewed everything that happened. He’s been exploding more and more, she reminded me. Yes, he got in the face of an umpire at my son’s game last week and the night before this altercation had come off the bench at a remark made by an opposing coach. He’s a very angry person anyway. Yes, he was asked to stop coaching my son’s football game because of it. This guy has ISSUES. Yes, and he takes them all out on me. She reminded me that he does this – dumping all his problems on me and blaming everyone but himself. His life is a mess of his own making and I’m finally getting mine together. She brings me a lot of peace.
This morning I’m still in shock. That it even happened. That he was willing to escalate things to that level in front of so many witness’.
And I fear what he will do if he catches me alone.
I can’t remember now how the topic came up but the kids and I got to talking about my being “child free” last night – as in, never having had them at all. I went on about trips I could take, cleaning I would no longer have to do and all the eating out I could indulge in. What didn’t occur to me then, and wish now it would have, is that I think they took my comments very much to heart. If I had a “do over” I would have followed that up with, “but I would never trade you guys for a spotless house, trips or crappy restaurant food”. But I didn’t.
Some days I just feel like a really bad Mom.